• Fortune was her perfume.
    Gold and frankincense the ways she left her mark upon this earth.
    Lest the rocks cry out against her, none would think to do the same
    It was her name.
    It was her time-
    Her history.
    Look with me, young seeker
    as her tongue lashes the night.
    See the way it kills the stars and turns them into dust.
    They fall on us
    and cast the moons bright hue to shame
    as her retort remains a widow to this silent time.
    Forget not what she was
    for in your mind
    her footprints paint themselves like
    velvet on the floor.
    She keeps no mystery in us anymore.
    Hush your thoughts sweet crimson hue...
    for on her lips you stain the same, yet cost us no more sight.